by A H Almaas
Why is that? Because we are desperate to have a ground, a center to function from—which ultimately means having a self. We may never put it into words, but we feel, “I need something that is me, a place from which to function. I need a center that my thoughts can flow out of and touch the world, so the world can reflect something back to me.” We want the world to be a mirror so we can look at it and find some reality in our reflection: “Yes, that is me! I am really here!” And we even do this with presence. Presence just is, but our consciousness can reflect it back in such a way that we can use it to say, “That’s me. I exist.”
FEAR OF THE BLACK HOLE
Why do we have this tendency to constantly look for validation of our self-existence? What is behind all these efforts to constellate around anything we think we can rely on to keep confirming that we are? If we continue with our inquiry into this, at some point we may feel fear, perhaps even terror, and that fear shows us that we are running away from something. We feel that something we don’t understand is running after us, and we are scared to death. It is as if we are always trying to climb up out of a deep, dark pit. We are trying to find something, anything, to grab on to or get a foothold on, so that we don’t slide all the way down to the bottom. If we explore those feelings, we discover that what we are trying to climb out of is a black hole. We are terrified that the black hole will suck us in.
We somehow can sense that nobody ever escapes the black hole! So we hope that we will be able to stay outside the event horizon beyond the influence of the black hole. Remember, the event horizon is the point inside of which objects, experiences, and even light cannot escape because they get sucked in by the overwhelming gravity of the black hole.
But we can never find our security in trying to climb out; it’s not even possible to climb out, because this black hole is not located in space. It is everywhere. And it turns out that our effort to run away or to climb out or to escape is an attempt to continue being, as we understand it. When we investigate the omnipresent nature of presence, we understand this to mean that we are not doing anything, but our mind can still interpret that nondoing as an “activity” of being there, as the expression of having some kind of concrete existence.
But that is not the true meaning of True Nature, of presence. When we explore what presence feels like, when we experience its luminosity, we recognize that, though it can feel substantial, it has no substance; it is not solid at all. Even though, when we first encounter it, we know that presence is what truly exists, our mind mistakenly conceives of its existence in the same way that we think a rock exists. But in doing that, we reify it, we concretize it, and miss its very nature. So we take presence to be existence, but the existence of presence is not like the existence of the body, for example, because it is not an object. Even though we say that presence is our being, that it is the authentic ontological ground of our consciousness, neither being nor existence are what we are referring to when we speak of the existence of a rock or a chair. We need to be very subtle in our understanding of what “presence is being” means. We need to recognize the pitfall of the tendency to objectify.
This tendency to objectify is always an attempt to get away from this truth, from this reality that I am referring to as the black hole. And we are always trying to get away from it because it is always here; we cannot escape it. And somehow we are aware of that inescapability, we intuit it. We are continuously trying to create solidity because if we let ourselves completely relax, we will find out that the nature of presence itself is completely, absolutely nothing—it is more nothing than the nothing of empty space. It is nonbeing itself. So even though presence feels like being, when you recognize it, it is nonconceptual and therefore it is not—cannot be—the opposite of nonbeing. The notion of an opposite does not exist in the nonconceptual, and neither do being and nonbeing, because they are conceptual.
So, first we recognize that being is really fundamentally a nonbeing, nothing, absence. Presence turns out to be the other side of what can only be described as a spacious absence. The ground of the ground, the ground of presence itself, of the luminosity itself, is nonexistence. You feel it . . . it exists. But what is the feeling of existence in it? What makes it exist? What is the ground of the existence of presence? The recognition of the fact that it does not exist, that it is absolutely nothing. Complete transparency, no opaqueness, no thickness, no objects, no solidity, no substance, no mass, no atoms, no time, no space . . . nothing.
But we get accustomed to believing in and living according to our ideas of what we think our existence is—an objective existence such as that of a rock. Thus, recognizing the actual underlying nature of our existence—the nonbeingness of it—requires such a subtle understanding that we tend not to see it.
THERE IS NO GROUND
The truth of our existence reveals itself only when we start to wonder why we are always moving toward solidity. If we inquire into this, we can follow the thread of why we keep doing it, as if something were pushing us toward reifying, objectifying, making things concrete. Why don’t we just relax and let things be whatever they are? Because if we really did that, we would discover that the whole universe is just an event horizon. We would sense the infinite nothingness “within” all of reality. All of our experience, everything that manifests, is existing just on the edge of a huge black void of absence. It is all a glimmering surface of an infinite black hole, meaning that all of existence is a hologram, an insubstantial hologram.
What would happen if you didn’t try to squeeze yourself into something solid and just let yourself relax? Just by relaxing, you would realize that things start to feel lighter. If you continue, everything becomes so light, so free, so transparent, that it feels as though you could put your hand through it. You can see through everything—and behind everything there is nothing, absolutely nothing. That is why you cannot see anything—because there is nothing. You look and it is pitch dark, like the universe before the Big Bang—no stars, no light, nothing there. But that nothingness is really the back of everything we see; everything you see is just the front. In fact, it doesn’t really have a back at all.
So all our attempts at conceptualization, reification, identification, rejection, are ways of trying to make the hologram solid because we think that is what reality is, and we think that is how we can exist. We are not yet comfortable being an emptiness. We are not comfortable living with nothingness. Our soul, our consciousness, still doesn’t know how to be settled without being settled on top of something. It doesn’t know how to be on nothing or how to just float. We always have to sit someplace. We haven’t recognized that if we feel our nature completely, we don’t need to sit anywhere, and we don’t need a ground of any kind.
And that is how it is anyway—there is no ground. It is not as though somebody is going to take reality away from us; nobody is going to take anything from us. All that will happen is that we will see through our belief, our position, that there is being and nonbeing. We will see through the illusion that there is existence and nonexistence. We will see through our attachment to the idea that we exist now but that nonexistence means we are going to disappear, that our existence is going to terminate.
But these are all concepts, conceptualizations, and reality is nothing like that. Reality is this: We are here and not here at the same time, absolutely. We don’t exist and we continue to exist. This doesn’t make sense to our mind because of our conceptual positions. We carry a deep conviction that if we don’t exist, we cannot eat, we cannot talk, we cannot do anything. Don’t you believe that if you don’t exist, then it’s all over for you, that you can’t live? But reality is not like that. Reality is: You don’t exist and you keep on living. You die and are born again even though you don’t exist.
So how are we going to get comfortable with this? First of all, we cannot get it with our minds; let us start with knowing that. If we try to wrap our mind around it, it will become a reification. It has to be something that stings you, just
like a bee. When it happens, you don’t know what hit you; you just jump. Then you have the recognition, the thought, “Oh, it’s a sting . . . it’s a bee.” Reality is a bee sting before the concept of a bee sting.
So, when we recognize this, then all we do is practice being where we are—but now we remember that being where we are doesn’t mean what we used to think it did. It doesn’t mean that it is “me” who is going to be there; that is just a way of talking, of referring to something.
So I am taking us one step further here toward understanding what is happening—by looking at our language, by looking at our practice, and by considering the practitioner as well. Remember that we also need to investigate what “we” means and what “are” means, when we talk about being where we are. So when we sit and meditate, we don’t come with the idea that there is somebody who is going to sit. We just come to sit. Because being there means not doing anything to reality. We just leave everything alone.
Now if we don’t do anything to reality, and we don’t reify not doing, what will we find? Absolutely nothing. And finding absolutely nothing, we will be completely happy. We will discover that we cannot possess nothing, and neither can anybody else.
I am not saying that you should believe me about this. I don’t think you can. This is something to be discovered for yourself. I am just giving you a hint. What is left is for you to find out for yourself.
EXPLORATION SESSION
Exploring Fluidity and Solidity in Your Experience
This is an opportunity to explore the potential for fluidity in your experience. Begin by spending several minutes being present with and observing your immediate experience, allowing whatever arises in your moment-to-moment awareness.
Next, take some time to consider the following questions: Did you notice any tendency to solidify what you became aware of? Did you find yourself labeling, associating with, engaging in inner dialogue about, preferring, judging? What other forms did solidification take in you? Is it possible for you not to break your experience into objects or make yourself into an object? Feel free to return to an awareness of your immediate experience as you explore these questions.
The more you refrain from solidifying or objectifying, the more open your experience will become. It will be less defined, less determined by your mind, and more unknown. What stops you from allowing your experience to be completely open at each moment? Is fear involved in limiting the openness? Keep noticing how you feel as you engage in this inquiry.
CHAPTER 18
The Preciousness of Each Moment
TRUE NATURE IS THE TEACHER, the Supreme Teacher. It is always teaching about its truth. All beings are its students, and it teaches every moment, for the experience of each moment is its teaching. True Nature is always manifesting its truth in one form or another. It cannot help but do that. It is its nature to reveal its essence, its truth. We only need to see it, recognize it. We see this manifestation of True Nature as our experience, but the experiences we have are just the momentary forms of how True Nature is continuously presenting its truth.
So each moment of our life is the teaching. And we can see what the teaching is if we allow ourselves to be where we are. When we are asking, “What is the meaning of my life?” we can see what it is if we allow ourselves to be where we are. Then we are seeing what True Nature is manifesting at every moment. And if we can truly and fully be where we are, then we realize that no moment is better than any other moment. Each moment is—all moments are—the expression of True Nature. There is nobody else, nothing else, that is manifesting anything.
Thus, each moment of our life is the teaching. And each moment has its own value because each moment is really the way that True Nature is manifesting itself, the way it is appearing, the form it is taking. We have seen that when we recognize the truth of our experience, the meaning appears and we can recognize that meaning. When we see the truth and abide in it, we recognize its value. So we look for meaning in our life—what the value of life is—but the fact is that it is not somewhere waiting to be discovered; it is always here. We just need to recognize that it is here.
At the beginning of our journey, when we are not able to be ourselves, value appears more in terms of what our mind thinks is valuable. But when we are real, when we are genuine, sincere, we recognize that true value is actually the same as recognizing the truth of the moment. Then we experience a kind of value that is not mental, that is heartfelt, that makes our heart feel satisfied.
As we progress on the journey, we recognize that the value of the experience is where we are, the presence of where we are. True Nature manifests its value directly by revealing its presence, not by camouflaging it in one form or another. Eventually, we reach the advanced stages of the journey where it is revealed that everything is itself and its nature—and hence inherently valuable, inherently beautiful, inherently precious. At that point, we realize that all manifestations, whether we can recognize them specifically or not, are that inherent value and preciousness of reality.
At the first stage, our experiences are of the same kind that we encounter in the advanced stages, but we just don’t recognize them for what they are. We can only begin to recognize value when we discern truth, when we see meaning. When we see the meaning of our experience, a heart satisfaction, a sense of valuing what it is, naturally arises. Even in difficult or painful experiences, when we are able to understand and learn from them, we recognize value that we couldn’t have imagined at an earlier stage. This value is not the value of gaining more money or recognition or even love; it’s closer to our heart than that, more heartfelt.
We are always looking for that sense of value to make our experience worthwhile, so that we can feel that we are worthy, but we often suffer the absence or the limitation of worthwhile-ness, of the sense of value, because we do not see ourselves clearly. We don’t recognize who and what we are and we don’t know how to be where we are. We are distant from where we are, fighting where we are. Whatever the value is that we want—whether it is fame or love or success or enlightenment or a specific experience—we think that it is something we have to accomplish. We believe we have to go someplace to get it, when it is right here, right in this very moment, if we just relax and be in it.
If we relax in this moment and be completely in it, we begin to recognize that this moment is reality, that each moment is reality, and this reality is the most valuable thing, the most precious thing, because it is the way that True Nature is manifesting. True Nature isn’t waiting for us to succeed in our practice for it to be here. It is already here. Remember, it is beyond time.
VALUE WITHOUT CAUSE
This book opened with a discussion of the appreciation for being real. We saw how natural it is that when the heart, the feeling center of the human soul, is touched by realness, when it feels reality, it responds with love, with appreciation, with liking and enjoyment. Now we can see that it also responds by recognizing that realness has value that is beyond the mind; it has an intrinsic worth that cannot be measured in worldly things.
This value is beyond words and impacts us at a place that is beyond our worldly life. That is why, after a life of strife and pain and difficulty, many people finally have a glimpse of True Nature and find that one moment of recognition is worth all the suffering that went before. For some reason, this knowing fills our heart with a fullness, a sweetness, a sense of recognition of the inherent value of existence.
So you see, the value of existence at each moment is not the result of something else; it is its own nature, its own reality. It is not a matter of cause and effect. We do not value something because of something else. At the beginning stages of our work, we might be unclear or a little deluded and think that the reason we value reality is because it gives us a great experience or it makes us happy or it opens up some new capacities or it gives us some other benefit. It is true that it does all that. But the more clearly we recognize what is manifesting in the moment—what the meaning of the moment is, w
hat teaching is manifesting through any particular form—the more we recognize that the very existence, the factness, the pure, self-existing value of each moment, is not related to a reason. Its value does not come from doing this or that; its value is inherent.
When we recognize this inherent value of reality, when we experience it ourselves, our heart cannot help but be suffused with a sense of appreciation. And it’s not that we value it because we think it is great. The value is not something that I give to or impose on reality; the value is reality itself—or reality is the value.
It is not that it’s valuable because it is transparent and luminous and free and light; its own intrinsic nature makes experience and life supremely worthwhile. It makes every moment seem full of treasures, treasures that the mind cannot fathom. And those treasures are not someplace in the future but in the moment. Knowing this is simply a matter of recognition. It is a matter of being able to see clearly.
THE SOURCE OF ALL VALUE
We have said that the things that appear in our experience at the early stages of the journey are the same as in the later stages when reality reveals itself directly. In those beginning stages, veils are in the way, keeping us from seeing things directly, preventing us from seeing them completely and accurately. Instead we see our experience through all our reifications. But each form that appears at any stage of the journey is True Nature manifesting something to us in order to reveal itself—even veils and obscurations, barriers and obstacles. Every experience is here to teach us.
So the issue is: How good a student of experience are we at each moment? And what does it mean to be a good student? To practice, to learn, means to perceive the teaching that is coming through each moment of our life—not just during a meditation retreat or while reading this book or doing the practice exercises or pursuing our inquiry, but in each moment of our life. There needs to be no differentiation or separation of these activities from the rest of our life.
